Silence (II)

I've been writing and posting pictures at my blog for 100 Days 2011. It's a tough task having to come up with something everyday and so far I've been on time with my posts. Even shooting and touching up that one picture, among several failed ones, can take a fair bit of time and thought and I'm no photographer. The upside is that I let myself go--I'd write all kinds of random, bizarre and mean stuff that drifts past my mind and it gets more violent by the day. Give me a couple more months and a bunch of surrealist poems or flash stories to read, and I'll tear all my characters apart with an axe or bare hands. Or they just collapse on their own, as they do now.

In real life I have a knack for making people fall apart, develop compulsive-obsessive tendency, feel hurt or cut, go nuts or at least feel terribly agitated or disappointed or I don't know what-to-call-that-unreal-emotion in what are mostly minor or fleeting situations. It's my fault, or it's a very bad habit. I'm a very instinctive and self-aware person. The moment something happens--or even before it happens--I know precisely how I feel and think about it, how much I can take, what I cannot stand. And I put it aside for a while--'I should be understanding and tolerant'--fully knowing how much I dislike it. Normally I'll bring it up once or twice, and there would never be an honest answer. Then I stay quiet and act normal if everything was normal, until I drop the pretense and disappear.

No build-up. No warning. Nothing at all. People explode. They come up with various reasons why I have freaked out, that I must have been a psychopath who's full of bitterness at the world (i.e. what they've done, because at such moments the world revolves around them, in their mind), or a bitch who likes to do nasty things to others. For me, wearing those labels still beats having to say another word to someone I want out of my sphere. It would be so dishonest, so cheap to explain anything to that person whose feeling I don't care about. Today I decided I no longer want to stay connected with someone I've known for a long time, because they didn't give me an honest answer a while ago. When the dust settles, nothing matters. Nothing about this life would have changed.